Around this time in 2008, I was caught unexpectedly in a sub-Saharan sandstorm. There was a certain hilariousness about the situation. We had stopped to visit  an old African city, whose name I cannot remember (help would be very much appreciated). It stood out proudly, starkingly red against the blue skies and its lush green oasis-like surroundings.

 

The new city across the ”river” carries on the architecture of the older city.

We walked around the outskirts of the older city, observing the details of North African architecture, which then, seemed to otherworldly to me.

Stopping to talk with a local tribesman, the wind picked up.

Everyone scattered for cover. There was a brief moment of confusion and my friend Ravena started to scream out to me ”Where are we going to go?! Which side?” As we couldn’t figure out whether to take shelter in the old city which was closer, or make a run for our van in the new city. We finally took up shelter right under the gate of the old city, until the storm let up and we then set off to spend the night in the Sahara.

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